For a night, I was God.
With a glass of red in one hand and
a pen in the other, I sat on my bed
and reread the last few years of my life.
I was stranger among my own thoughts,
a voeuyer into a life I no longer knew.
All my private mistakes laid out
in scribbled frantic strokes, but clear.
I sipped the wine, drank it down. I read and read;
I scratched out. Everything painful was delightfully
marked through over and over and over.
Every sin covered in black ink and gone.
smiles…if only, eh? scratching out the mistakes…now that might not be a bad idea…got a few things i might go back and put a bold font on too…
smiles…if only, eh? scratching out the mistakes…now that might not be a bad idea…got a few things i might go back and put a bold font on too…
I say if we can write out future, then why can't we write our past? I say, Go For It! Great fun, this was.
I say if we can write out future, then why can't we write our past? I say, Go For It! Great fun, this was.
This has an intensity about it, a forthrightness that just comes out so clearly, almost brutal as the ending comes across with its ferocious bkanknesd. I saw thisvact itself like what I do in life, edit outbthe bad and just leave the good parts showing.mPowerful idea, powerful writing in a clear and thoughtful voice.
This has an intensity about it, a forthrightness that just comes out so clearly, almost brutal as the ending comes across with its ferocious bkanknesd. I saw thisvact itself like what I do in life, edit outbthe bad and just leave the good parts showing.mPowerful idea, powerful writing in a clear and thoughtful voice.
thank you guys for the comments~ i keep thinking about this one… is it possible to just strike out the bad parts just like that? hmmm
thank you guys for the comments~ i keep thinking about this one… is it possible to just strike out the bad parts just like that? hmmm
I liked this…simple, internal, restrained.
I liked this…simple, internal, restrained.
Poetry by JC Snyder 
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